


video games

by wshxn



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, Infidelity, M/M, Park Chanyeol & Oh Sehun Are Best Friends, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 04:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10209590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wshxn/pseuds/wshxn
Summary: if chanyeol had all the time in the world, he would probably spend a third of it counting the number of times he’d actually daydreamed of waking up to sehun’s disheveled hair and muffled ‘good mornings’.





	

**Author's Note:**

> it is a beautiful and terrifying thing to be in love.

if chanyeol had all the time in the world, he would probably spend a third of it counting the number of times he’d actually daydreamed of waking up to sehun’s disheveled hair and muffled ‘good mornings’, perhaps counting his lashes or the moles on his face until sehun hits him on the face with a pillow for being a creep (but sehun would blush, anyway, and hide shyly behind his hands because _chanyeol, you creepy fuck, stop staring_ ). sehun would also probably kick him out of the bed, but kiss him square in the mouth over bacon and eggs as if nothing had ever happened.  
  
chanyeol doesn’t know when it started, really—when he’d begun to research for funnier jokes to tell or new video games to recommend to sehun just so he could keep the conversation going. maybe it had been sehun’s wit and charm that drew him in, his ability to ride and play along with chanyeol’s hilarity and weird antics.  
  
maybe it was when he’d unconsciously gawked at sehun as he laughed at a pick-up line with his head thrown back and his eyes closed into perfect crescents and his hands clapping like an entertained seal. chanyeol had forgetten to breathe, then, had forgotten that he’d been refilling his water bottle until it spilled over the rim and an aggravated kyungsoo had to smack him on the back of his head with a book to get him back to his senses.  
  
or maybe it was when sehun had accidentally cut himself with a sushi knife while cooking for chanyeol’s birthday dinner, and the taller man had instinctively pulled out a ‘batman’ band-aid to wrap around the damage while he hummed the theme song with a low, baritone voice. sehun had been so close that chanyeol felt a breath or two graze his neck in a whispered _thank you_.  
  
maybe it had started when sehun had called about _him_.  
  
his best friend is distraught, miserable over someone who doesn’t deserve his tears, much less his attention. sehun sits on the floor of his room, hugging his knees to his chest while he buries his face in his arms. by his foot, his phone lays discarded and vibrating endlessly on silent as a name flashes repeatedly: _kim jongin_.  
  
if chanyeol had all he time in the world, he would probably spend half of it counting the number of times he’d hoped sehun would notice him, or the number of times he’d wished sehun would rethink the choices he’s made. he would also probably plot ways on how to avenge his best friend—break jongin’s jaw, perhaps, or castrate him in his sleep.  
  
he was mesmerized, horrified, and angry—emotions at war as he stands before the very man he’s longed to have. he wanted to save sehun, pull him out from drowning in his misery.  
  
but the gnawing feeling in his stomach is all too familiar.  
  
this wasn’t like when he’d met sehun for the first time, a freshman lost in the vast expanse of the campus. chanyeol was in a hurry himself, but left sehun his phone number, directing the younger man towards the arts building while he briskly walks to the history department. but sehun must’ve been walking in circles, sighing exasperatedly that _i’ll never make it to class anymore, it’s half past 9_ , and chanyeol had told him to stay where he was, excusing himself from his lecture to find sehun looking much like a lost child across the fountain.  
  
chanyeol simply couldn’t lead him to the right track. there is no solution. how coincidental was it that his predicament didn’t have one, either?  
  
he wanted to punch himself in the gut, or cut himself to pieces and dissipate in front of sehun and hide in the crevices of his best friend’s being just to make him whole again.  
  
he wanted sehun to stop crying. he wanted him to realize right at this very moment that _no, you do not have the worst life ever_ , that his plight is much less painful and horrible than those who have not eaten or have no roofs above their heads. he wanted to tell him that he’s beautiful and amazing and worth it. but, really, what would any of that do?  
  
‘i have no one, absolutely nothing else to live for, chanyeol,’ sehun whispers in a broken voice, grasping at threads and a broken heart. this catches chanyeol by surprise, because if there’s someone between the two of them who has something to live for, it’s sehun.  
  
for instance, there’s his beagle, baekhyun, who pees on everything that smells like sehun (because he’s a little shit who thinks he can dominate every nook and cranny of their dorm); there is also the bubble tea machine he’d bought on impulse, his miranda kerr collection, and the miniature mercedes benz he saved up for for months to remind him of his dreams. chanyeol could go on and on about all of this, listing down sehun’s interests and hobbies, the things that make him laugh and be grateful for as his smiles reach his eyes in absolute bliss while he’s caught in the moment.  
  
he could tell him all the bro codes and statements that apply to situations like this, tell him all the things he wanted to hear, _he’s an ass for hurting you like this, sehun, you deserve better._  
  
but chanyeol is not sure that an _i love you_ is one of them.  
  
because even if he meant it, even if he poured his feelings onto every syllable to make sehun feel like he means so much more to him than his best friend, every word that would escape his quivering lips would fade into thin air as if they were never spoken—as if they meant anything at all.  
  
chanyeol realizes, as silence and sniffles fill the room, that at this moment, sehun is broken and empty, void of emotions as the ache eats him away slowly; that right now, he meant nothing to him. sehun is still crying over the idiot who had been seeing another, heaves escalating at what chanyeol could only imagine to be the memories flooding in with every ring of his phone.  
  
but chanyeol is patient, chanyeol is kind. that even if his best friend is a mess of tears, hair strewn all over his face, he still thinks sehun is the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on, that sehun is the only person he could ever love so much he’s willing to wait for him. _fuck kim jongin and his dumb droopy eyes._  
  
usually, chanyeol would have already thought of something funny to say, or perhaps share an old proverb or wise saying he’d come across with while reading one of his textbooks just so he could shift sehun’s attention elsewhere.  
  
but nothing escapes his lips more than a mere sigh, tongue-tied and terrified of what he could and could not say as he stood almost motionless in front of his best friend—his “what if”. so he sits down next to him, arm pulling sehun by the shoulder close and secure, _i’m right here._  
  
and maybe, finally, that is _something._


End file.
